


Just Know Y'all Got Yours Comin'

by Jehilew



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, happy married romy, ruined baths, wrecked k beauty routine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-06-30 23:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15762126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jehilew/pseuds/Jehilew
Summary: Rogue had thought to decompress a headache in a decadent, SOOTHING bath, snuggle up on her husband, and pass out. Remy, naturally, had other ideas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. A quick snippet that is actually just a scrapped bit off a one-shot I'm working on right now. It's maybe not the greatest thing I've written, but it's cute and sweet, and I absolutely refuse to throw it away. I haven't decided yet if this is a stand-alone thing, or a previous-chapter thing to that upcoming one-shot, so for now, I'm leaving it open. If I do decide that it's all the same fic, the rating will change to M, since the next part is pure smut;)
> 
> Also, this contains a couple of hcs of mine: 1) Rogue, not being able to touch for the longest, is extremely sensitive to whatever she can touch. No cheap, scratchy fabrics for her, nor cheap/shitty skin care products. She likes to indulge from time to time! 2) Remy loves to completely wreck those girly moments. Not to be horse's ass, but... seriously, luxury skin care feels and smells incredible. And the man hasn't been able to touch her skin to skin for very long. You think he's passing that up? lmao.

" _Mmmmmm_ , now that feels _good_..."

Remy perks up at the sound of his wife's purr coming from their bedroom, and immediately changes direction from the kitchen toward the hallway, unceremoniously dumping his school shit on the turn, and already dropping his singed jacket to the floor and kicking off his shoes along the way. He knows that sound, it's the one his Anna-Marie makes when she's rubbing one out, and he wants _in_ on that action.

It isn't like he couldn't do with a good, hard, thorough night wrapped up in that woman's arms and legs, anyway. It's a Friday night to a long-ass week.

Well, more accurately, a long ass several months, just one stupid thing after another. If it wasn't a mutant hating bigot setting something on fire, or his wife's obnoxious ex on a war-path and raining genocide on normal folks, or her fucked up mama threatening to break up their marriage, or his long-time creepy pal, Sinister, popping up with an army of someone's weird-ass clones, it was some kid or another cropping up a power in his classes. The last is almost always a dramatic event in and of itself, and today had been no exception, the poor kid looking like he'd spontaneously combusted in his chair.

Thankfully, no actual spontaneous combustion had taken place, the kid had merely teleported off to point unknown, but unfortunately for him (and everyone around him), he 'bamfs' explosively, and apparently _literally_ out of his skin.

Thank fuck the poor thing has a helluva healing factor to go with that power.

Remy shivers. Mutanthood really isn't so kind to some. And there seems to be more and more mutants popping up lately, at earlier and earlier ages, with increasingly powerful abilities. Which isn't a bad thing, all things considered, except that he's getting a bit tired of trying not to die while teaching Sex Ed.

At least he hasn't had it as bad as Anna of late. On top of everything else, she's been in Frost's hands since they put feet back down on Earth after a rather... _unconventional_...honeymoon in space, trying to work through her mess and get a grip on her power. It'd worked, but not without sending his wife home sore, with a nasty headache, and a sour mood every time.

And Christ, the fights they'd had because of it! Anna would get so frustrated when her mutation didn't cooperate, and reach for the collar, desperate as she was for skin on skin. He'd actually charged the stupid thing to a loud pop during one fight, and she'd wound up in tears over that. He'd kind of wanted to slip to the floor and cry with her, because in a brutally honest moment, he could admit to himself that he was just as desperate and frustrated for that touch as she was. But that pleasure with the collar came with a price, in that it killed her head with migraines, and that it might loosen up any of the hard work she'd put into gaining control.

Not to mention, dangerous, as it weakened her to the level of a normal human. Not a great idea to court that trouble, in his books.

It wasn't like he hadn't known what he was getting into when he'd married her, anyway.

As it happens, all the bullshit had a payout that's been so sweet for her, and him just on principle. She's gone a solid three months now without a slip-up, and it's been easier on her mentally to maintain it now.

To say that quality of life has _greatly_ improved in the LeBeau household would be an understatement. As it is, Remy had been an over the moon, happily married man from the start, and _now_...

Well, his blessings are so stacked for a change, he can't even begin to count that high, so he doesn't bother.

He strides into bedroom to hear her hum in pleasure again, and his eyes hit the closed bathroom door. He licks his lips, his mind already playing out memories of things she'd do when they couldn't touch, and reminding him of the things _he_ can do now that she can.

God _damn_ , he's going to split that girl in half soon as he gets his hands on her!

He hears water sloshing around in the tub, and grins as he silently turns the handle on the door, because hell _yes_ , Anna's already naked and in a bath, which means she's pampering, which means her skin is going to butter-soft and smelling like something he'd really like to sink his teeth into-

"Oh my _god_ , this feels _amazing_ , it actually does deliver on the soothin', like it _promised_!" Anna-Marie LeBeau coos, rubbing evidently moan-inducing, soothing strokes along her throat and under her chin, "I'm totally buyin' this shit agai- _Remy_!" She squawks at him, grabbing her knees and hugging them close, "shut the door, sugar, y'all are lettin' out all the warm, and lettin' in all the cold-"

"Oh non, beb, can't have that, now can we?" Remy teases, flashing his teeth at his utterly adorable wife sitting nearly chin-deep in a bath clearly going cold if her chattering teeth are anything to go by, her hair piled up in a frizzy top-knot, and her face covered with one of those sheet mask things she loves, her chin and neck positively dripping with whatever that shit is from the mask. "I ain't about lettin' you get cold, no?" He continues, moving in and shutting the door behind him.

"Remy, what're you doin'?" She asks him suspiciously, and he laughs, because even though he can't actually see her eyes narrowed down to slits at him for that mask, he can _feel_ it.

"Oh, nothin, chere. Jus' thinkin' I might need a bath, is all."

"Remy, _no_ ," she replies, somewhat of a note of alarm in her tone, "I'm usin' all _new_ stuff, _good_ stuff, and the _good_ stuff is expensi- _Remy_!" She gasps and splutters as he joins her in the tub, still in his clothes, and sloshing water out on the floor, and pulls her back to his chest.

"Chere, I don' know what you was complainin' about me openin' the door that half a second for, this water's done gone colder than it is out there." He drops a kiss on the nape of her neck, sliding a hand up to cup a breast, pulling a charge up in the other hand as he swirls the water, heating it up. "Issa good thing I came in, else you'd like to freeze to death in here." He drops a series of open kisses along her shoulder, the soft scents of honeysuckle and creamy vanilla making his mouth water up over her skin.

"Dammit, Remy, why you always do this?" She snips half heartedly, turning a weak as hell frown on him, "you always try me when I'm usin' my _nice_ things, tryin' to _relax_ , and be _good_ to my skin, and-"

"-mmm, sweetheart, I can do _good_ and _nice_ and _then_ some to y' skin, and I promise," he practically eats along the side of her neck, turning her back around, "you be _all_ kinds of relaxed when I'm done-"

"-and I just wanna smell _good_ and feel _clean_ ," she fusses, letting him push her head back over his shoulder so he can lick a line up to her chin, "and soak the sore out of my body, and then you- _ohhhhh_ , oh sugar, that-"

"-yeah, _that_ ," he agrees through a wicked grin she can't even see, his free hand sliding up between her legs, "you was sayin' what now, chere?"

* * *

"Just so you _know_ , sugar, what I was sayin' earlier is that I just wanted to pamper, relax, be clean, smell good, snuggle up, and pass out."

Remy chuckles down at the persnickety woman dropping drowsy kisses across his chest in between each bitching word meant _just so he knows_. "Seems to me like you about to do every bit of that, so I don' know what you goin' on about, che— _ouw_! The fuck?" He half yelps, half laughs as she gives his nipple a sharp little bite.

She licks the teeth marks, kisses them, and lifts herself up just enough to level him a look. "I meant pass out _still_ clean and smellin' nice, and I definitely ain't any of that now."

"All a matter of opinion, Anna-Marie. I think you smell jus' fine."

"Yeah, I notice you didn't mention the lack of clean part," she snorts at him, lower lip already sulking out.

He shrugs and grins unrepentantly up at her. "We can always go for a shower, non?"

" _Oh_ , sure, why not?" She grumps, "might as well, we hit about every surface between here and the tub, I'm sure the shower's feelin' left out."

Remy laughs and pulls her back down, flattening her out over his chest. She loves to act like it pisses her off when he completely ruins one of her _good_ girly nights, but he knows better. She does all that stuff for him as much as herself, and if she really wasn't having him at any point, he'd know. Body language doesn't lie, and his wife wouldn't pull her punches in letting him know it in _no_ uncertain terms, either.

She sure as hell wouldn't have let him nail her in the tub, then again, bent over the countertop after she'd gotten smart with him while attempting to re-start her facial...skin care... _whateve_ r session, and yet again, tossed into the bed, where he'd pounced and caged her down in his arms and hips after she'd laughed, squealed, and tried to run from him.

He's absolutely so damn gone on her, _loves_ her. He loves this woman with every squeeze of his stupid heart, and where most folks might be put off by her acting grumbly over shit she's not actually all that upset over, he thinks she's utterly adorable.

He's been called crazy a time or few for that, even by others who love her, too.

Maybe he _is_ a bit crazy.

He doesn't care. He's the happiest he's ever been in his crazy, so he'll take it.

Remy laces fingers through her hair and kisses her forehead, the end of her nose, then her mouth. When she fully relaxes and purrs into that kiss, he pulls back and grins at her. "Since you're lookin' awfully _relaxed_ and ready to pass out—jus' like I promised you earlier, might I add—how about you go ahead and do that, and you an' me get to includin' that shower in our business in the mornin', yeah?"

He watches those stunning eyes sizzle right back up and her brows slam together. "Remy, I swear, you can _ruin_ moments like—"

He just grins wider and smacks her ass, making her squawk at him. "I ain't ruinin' nothing, Anna-Marie, you the one fuckin' up y' beauty routine here—"

" _I'm_ fuckin—Remy, _you're_ the one who interrupted my beauty routine _twice_ —"

"Ain't you the one always insisting that gettin' adequate sleep is part of y' primpin' and pampering thing you do?" He cuts her off with a laugh, "so yeah, you jus' settle down and get your beauty sleep-"

"Shut it, Cajun." She claps her hand across his mouth, a brow arched nearly up into her hairline. When Remy reaches up to press her palm firm against his lips for a kiss, he watches those stunning, grass green eyes melt to liquid, her lids dropping back to drowsy slits.

"You're lucky I love you, swamp rat," she snorts, snuggling back down into his side, popping a loud kiss on his chest. "'Cause I was really enjoyin' that bath you messed up, and that mask, too—" she pauses to yawn, "and I was really lookin' forward to this new serum I got, it's made out snail slime extracts, and then there was that body butter you liked so much last time, that one with sweet orange and palo santo in it—" this time, she yawns so hard, her little nerd-out over skin care shit blurs into loud, adorable yawny noises. " _Nummanum_ ," she smacks her lips into his shoulder, "nevermind. Just know y'all got yours comin' later, Cajun."

"I don' doubt you one bit," he chuckles out, lifting his arm just a bit to let her wiggle in even more til she's comfortable, her eyes closed all the while.

And he doesn't doubt her warning in the slightest. His wife has a good little petty streak in her when it suits her. It's just her ideas on retaliation are...unusual...at times. Rarely actually to his detriment, though always at his expense, are her one-ups on him.

Smiling, he leans up to kiss into fluffy, white curls, lingering for a moment. "'Night, Anna-Marie. Sleep sweet," he murmurs, kissing her one more time.

He settles back on his pillow, hand tucked under his head, and turns his face toward her, smile softening as he finally drifts off, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the prompted part of this fic, and it is pretty much just porn. As it happens, this is also a hc of mine, and I know I'm not alone there *waves at roguesboobfreckles!* Anyway, if lots of smut that's a tad on the raunchy/humorous side ain't your thing, then neither is this chapter. I'd say enjoy, but...considering the content at hand (heh)... HEH.
> 
> Hey, Random-rave. I gotcha something;)

"Mmmhm, that oughtta do it," Rogue hums through a satisfied smirk as she pulls back from the bathroom mirror to check her handiwork.

Red lips, cat eyes, and her hair let down to do its own wild thing?

Hell _yes_. Yes, this absolutely will do the trick!

"Remy, sugar, sometimes I _do_ wonder how it is you can even stand yourself, seein' this everyday," she flirts low and sultry at the man not even home yet, and she blows a kiss at her reflection.

"Oh, will I rub in _real good_ that oranges and cream body butter you love so much to lick off of me? Why, _yes_ , I _will_ , my pretty Cajun, but you can't eat it til I say you can, hmmm?" She laughs as she reaches for the tub of said body butter, a pricey little gem of a find she'd picked up to try one day, and subsequently learned her husband goes nuts over it.

She hums to herself as she works the product over her naked body, the rich oils sinking in til it turns her skin buttery soft, and she grins wickedly as she makes sure to graze the warm fragrance _all_ up between her legs, too.

"Mmm-hm, I _did_ do that _just for you_ , swamp rat," she murmurs, closing her eyes as she rubs a swirl over her clit and imagines it's one of his clever, graceful hands working her over.

Her body responds to the fantasy, and she stays as she is a bit more, touching enough to excite, but not enough to get her anywhere. She opens her eyes after a moment and leans over to kiss her reflection, leaving a full, bright red lip mark on the mirror for him to see later.

"My god, that boy's _in for it_ ," she cackles gleefully and moves away from the mirror, out toward the bedroom.

And she absolutely damn well means it. She's going to drive that smug as hell Cajun completely batshit tonight, turn him into a sweaty, writhing, stuttering, half charged mess, beginning from the second he walks in the door, and ending only after he's a limp, panting, wrung-out, drenched heap in the sheets.

"And _hoooo_ , does that man ever deserve it," she purrs out vengefully as she opens up their shared walk-in closet and beelines for her drawers full of delicate unmentionables.

And he _does_. He one thousand percent does, he _deserves_ to lose his damn cool and beg her for mercy. On behalf of all luxury, _expensive_ skin care fallen to one Remy LeBeau, he _deserves_ to be edged and denied til his balls kill him. Future offenses included, because damn the man, anyway, he lives to get in the middle of her pampering moments and destroy them.

Like last night, when not only had he made her facial routine a total waste of her time, he'd also ruined an utterly _decadent_ milk bath by joining her in the tub and splashing near to every drop of water and product all over the floor.

"I'd even used the _good_ shit, too," she mutters, irritation sparking back up as she rifles through her lingerie for the perfect thing—

Lord, did she always have to go for lace and silk? Or yellow, or seafoam, or periwinkle? Surely there's something black or red, or maybe violet in here somewhere, and didn't she have something leather at one point? Because none of these fine and delicate pieces will do in the avenging of her beloved SK-11 sheet mask's honor.

"Tacha, girl, _Tacha_! Drunken Elephant! Sulwhasoo, _Dr. Jart_! 'Cause that one had the snail mucus stuff in it, or somethin'," she fusses, shoving yet another beautiful, lacey, and completely not right for tonight bustier and panties set out of the way. "So, none of this shit, I need somethin' nasty, 'cause one does not simply just _sacrifice_ snail slime extracts like tha- _ooooooh_!" She coos, eyes lighting up as they snag on a peek of black latex, still stashed away in the bag she'd brought it home in.

She immediately reaches for the bag, practically tearing it open to pull out a pair of thigh-high stilettos and a matching garter belt. "Oh me, oh my, how I'd forgotten all about y'all," she murmurs, positively delighted.

A gift from Emma, these, right after she and Remy had set foot back Earthside from their outer space 'honeymoon'. She'd walked into Emma's office for her first therapy session of many in an effort to gain control of her mutation, and Emma, being Emma, and a bonafide sex therapist as well as a friend, had ended it by handing her this little bag of goodies with a smirk and a smart-ass quip along the lines of _here's your carrot, darling_.

"And look at me now, munchin' _all over_ that carrot," Rogue giggles, tugging on the stilettos and strapping on the belt. "And it's gonna multiply a couple of times to dangle over that blasted man of mine before this is all said and done, too," she promises with a snap of the garter straps onto the boots.

Because multiples is the name of her game tonight. Having absorbed Remy a time or two in the past, she's more than aware of where all his sexual appetite runs, and she knows he's no stranger to being king in a foursome. Being not quite as... _liberated_...as he is in that regard, she's not willing to bring in other people, but she's absolutely down with nipping off Madrox in order to bust out a couple of duplicates, and tag-teaming her husband til he loses his filthy mind well into tomorrow morning.

Rogue groans at that, remembering Jamie's expression when she'd approached him for a quick zap, and scrubs her forehead as if to scrub out the memory.

Embarrassing, is what that'd been, seeing as how between her never being one to take from unwilling donors, and him apparently not being one willing to donate without full explanation, something more than the bare bones of her plan had come out of her reddened face. He'd stared at her for a total of three seconds and then crowed like the mentally twelve year old he actually is before grabbing her face and giving her a solid lipsmack on the mouth. Immediately irritated with him, she'd yanked hard, and he'd sunk to the floor chortling like an idiot about how she just thought _Remy_ was in for it, and reminded her to absorb her dupes as soon as she's done with them.

"At least he knows how to keep his trap shut. Coulda been _Bobby_ I wanted to borrow from," she mutters thankfully, reaching back into the bag for the sparkling red, heart-shaped pasties and coordinating lace panties with a pearl string—"are those _real_ pearls? Oh hell, _only_ Emma, I swear," -at the bottom.

Rogue moves in front of the mirror to make sure she positions the pasties on straight, and starts grinning again, because Remy is going to swallow his goddamn tongue when he sees this times three.

Playfully flicking one of the tassels, Rogue recalls being rudely awakened too early to a stinging slap across her ass, a sweet kiss to the corner of her mouth, and a flash of her obnoxiously handsome husband's teeth as he pulled back to finish getting dressed for work.

_"Up, up, sweetheart,"_ Remy had cheerfully smirked, his smug eyes flashing as he'd finished buttoning up his shirt. " _At this rate, you gonna sleep right through y' first class, Teach_."

" _'At this rate, you gonna sleep right through y' first class, Teach_ ,'" she mimics now with a face, then giggles and savagely opts out of the panties, dropping them into her drawer for another time on her way out of the closet.

"Not a chance in hell are you comin' outta this one unscathed, Remy Etienne LeBeau," she promises through a wicked grin and a clap of her hands. Two dupes bubble up and pop out of her sides, mirroring her tip to toe, right down to the smirk on her face and the glint in her eyes.

"C'mon, gals. Let's go... _situate_...ourselves before Remy's home."

Dupe one flashes her teeth and tosses her hair back as the other smirks and leans in to lick over her bared shoulder and trail a hand down her front.

Rogue shivers with a surprise zip of pleasure down her midline as she watches fingers slip between thighs and hears two soft sighs to match her own.

"Holy shit," she breathes. She hadn't expected that, to feel... _connected_?...to the duplicates. To feel what they do, see what they see, touch what they touch...

_Holy shit_ , indeed.

"This _is_ gonna be a helluva night, huh, girls?" She grins and shivers again at their enthusiastic nods, then quits the room and saunters out into the living room, her sexy as hell doubles falling in step beside her, to wait on their Cajun to walk in the door.

—•oOo•—

" _You_ ," Rogue growls, grinning wide as she yanks her husband out of the hallway and into the bedroom, and shoves his back flat on the bed, " _there_. And hands _off_ , swamp rat," she snaps out, smacking his hands away as she straddles him, moving up to pin his wrists into the mattress with her legs.

"Hot damn, chere, I love it when y' get it in your head to fuck me kinky," he practically purrs, eyes sliding over her, flashing at the pasties on his way down between her legs. He pauses there, licks his lips, then flicks quick, but appreciative looks over the dupes as they slide up on either side of them.

Things One and Two, she's already mentally dubbed them. Both had called themselves Rogue when she'd asked their names, and neither had seemed interested in changing that. Since she has no intentions of keeping them around after her lover is drooling on the sheets, she hadn't concern herself with names.

Both are already missing bits of their latex get-ups. During their short wait for Remy to show up, the dupes has been more than happy to play with each other, and so One had long since ditched her pasties, and Two is already down to her boots.

An unexpectedly hot thing to watch, _that_. Rogue hasn't ever really considered herself into this sort of thing, watching two women strip for each other and go at it (or _any_ two people, for that matter, considering how weird it's always been to relive the experiences of her victim post absorption). But when those women are literally your selves, and you're psychically linked to feel and want everything given and taken?

It's practically _self-love._

Rogue sits back for a moment, eating up her husband's expression in the height of smug satisfaction as he watches One reach out and slowly run fingertips over her collarbone to drag her palm rough over her breast. She slowly zig zags a fingertip to Rogue's navel, then drops her hand to push down between them and tease over his crotch. Two presses into his side, rubbing her tits in his ribs as she rakes nails down his torso and back up again.

When each dupe grabs a handful of his shirt and rips it open, Rogue hisses in excitement right along with him, and when One goes down to his belly button to lick up a long stripe clear to the cleft in his chin, Rogue's thighs clench as he sucks in his teeth, and her mouth waters up as the taste and smell of his skin floods the mind-link. When Two cups his face away from her double, and licks across his mouth, Rogue licks and smacks her own lips too, the texture and heat of his mouth ghosting over her tongue.

Hell, she just might've bitten off more than she'd expected to chew, and she's not one bit of mad about it. _This_ is a proper avenging of that gorgeous Mizon Returning Starfish Cream, and it's no more than what she deserves, having been deprived of it's youthful skin restorative benefits.

Or whatever it'd promised. It'd felt like silk sinking into her skin, at any rate, a texture hard to find in a cream, and her impossible husband had essentially sweated and smeared it off of her. And anyway, she's fairly certain there's a study or two she'd read extolling the virtues of fantastic, mind-blowing sex, and she's pretty sure it'd said something about keeping people young. So close enough, right?

She _deserves_ , dammit!

Smacking her lips again, Rogue grabs a handful of Remy's hair, and pulls his face up out of her doubles' mouths. His eyes sizzle and spark up at her, his features tightening in excitement, and she feels his entire body twitch and shift under her to get a better rub against her.

"Sugar, you remember what I said last night about you gettin' yours?"

"Mmmhm, I do, chere, and it looks like I'm about to get it _good_ —"

" _Shut up, Cajun_ ," snaps sharp at his smirking mouth and yanks him sitting upright. He hisses and sucks in his bit lip, eyes flared bright, and she softens into a smile that still shows every tooth in her head, and traces a fingertip along his jawline. "You run that mouth up at me again, and I'll make it so you get to watch all three of us get it better than you've ever imagined, and you get none at all, hmm?"

He pops up a brow and grins slow and sly up at her, about to say some no doubt witty, jackass reply, when Two tears his breath out his lungs as fast as she tears open his pants, popping off fly buttons. One takes him in hand and slides low on him to lick down the pleasure trail.

Rogue tightens her grip in his hair and pulls with just enough super strength to make him gasp and to put a jerk in his groin, and goes in for a rough, deep kiss. Pulling sharp and quick with her mutation, she takes a heady 'sip' off her husband, letting _him_ wash over her just long enough to catch his clever mind bypass the gutter entirely for the sewers.

The dupes coo and purr with want at that, and Rogue pushes up, flashing the slightly spun, lipstick-smudged man beneath her _his_ devilish eyes, _his_ utterly sinful grin, now armed to her fucking _teeth_ with his delightfully nasty mind.

"What's that you was about to say jus' now, sugar?"

—•oOo•—

" _I said stay down_." Rogue shoves Remy back rough enough to make his head bounce off the mattress and clack his teeth together.

He lifts his head and huffs a laugh up at her, eyes burning so bright, they smoke, and claps hands on her hips and yanks her up over his face. "Gimme that pussy, chere, and I do just that," he smirks, loudly smacking his lips as he leans up to get her.

"How about you mind yourself, and _maybe_ I'll let you later on, eh?" Rogue laughs and playfully pushes his forehead back. "Like you gotta choice, anyway," she smirks and grabs his hands, easily pinning his arms in at his sides under her straddled legs. She shifts back up close and just out of reach, and zips a finger between her legs, ending in a slow, tight rub over her clit. "Now, you jus' sit still for a minute while I enjoy myself a little while, won't you?" She teases, then pulls her finger up to suck it into her mouth and loudly pop it back out.

Not a move she'd ever pulled before, but then, she's not normally under the influence of Remy's mind, either. The man knows no taboo in the sack, and right now, neither does she.

And that feels _good_. It feels good to be like him, to think like he does, to want things he wants. Hell, even his powers feel good, his main one like a pleasant buzz, crackle, and burn just under the skin, an extra glide smoothing out her muscles and joints, His charm's a thick, heavy thing waiting in his borrowed yat and eyes, the empathy and other, as-yet-explored psionics a languid tease feathering at the edges of her heart and mind...

_Damn_ , but Remy LeBeau is a beautiful, sensual creature, clear down to the very sparks of his soul, and despite her general dislike for absorbing someone else, her husband is an absolute joy to take on.

Especially with the delicious addition of his psyche, a sexed up, teased, _hungry_ sliver of him, currently murmuring between her ears some of the grossest suggestions he's ever given.

She continues her little show over his face, rubbing to the sound of his voice in her head as well as his real one, to the tastes and smells and touches through the mind links, to the empathic connection she slowly unfurls over him, pulling in his pleasure, pushing out hers, letting them all get swept up in it. She's getting close, and her duplicates are feeling that, too, and she can hear their quickening breaths matching her own as she heats up and goes sensitive.

When One moves around, hands sliding up Rogue's ribs, dragging over her breasts, she nearly chokes on her breath. When One gives them a squeeze, and dips down with her mouth, Rogue flushes, rubs faster, eyes glued to Remy's face, feeling herself getting real slick as he watches.

When Two licks over her hip, Rogue shivers, and One moves out the way as Two zips her tongue over and low, lower... _lower_...

"O _h_ my _god_ ," Rogue breathes out in surprise, her thighs clenching. She hadn't intended _this_ , hadn't _expected_...

_Oh well_ , she thinks, decides to roll with it. The dupes are _her_ , it feels good, and going off the look on Remy's face, he's into it, so why not?

She falls forward to prop up on the headboard, hips rolling, melting into it, letting it happen, staring at Remy's face, wanting to lick off his expression, the way he's watching her.

" _Goddammit_ , chere," he snaps, pulling and tugging to free his arms, cursing because he can't, "let me- _ohhhhhhhh_ fuck," he cuts himself off with a harsh groan that makes her toes curl up, "fuck _yes_ , th-that, more, chere, _more_..."

Rogue glances back over her shoulder, and feels every muscle from her knees to her navel pull in as she watches One suck him up, her chin hitting his nuts and making him squirm. The sights, her own and the ones shared, the smell, the taste, the shared sensations...

"Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod, _oh, oh, ohmygod_ ," she gasps, going hard as her back arches, her nails gouging out deep stripes of the headboard.

Remy growls out something something in a mix of English, Spanish, and French, yanks his arms free, grabs her up rough by the ass, and snatches her down on his face, not even giving her the chance to come down.

She bites her lip and flushes as she realizes _exactly_ why Madrox had laughed himself stupid as he hit the floor.

Between Remy being constitutionally incapable of _not_ flipping the power tables in bed, and her duplicates currently very happy to smack around loudly on him and just in general _not_ being merely simple creatures at her command, she finally sees the flaw in her plan to make her Cajun pay:

_She_ is about to be the one to lose it, to beg for it, not _him_.

Rogue twitches her lips up in a smile as Remy's mouth tightens up on her in a hard suck, and her breath starts coming in short gasps. Because honestly, this little unexpected bit isn't a bad situation, not at all, and most decidedly tilted in her favor.

She's set to lose her ever loving mind while making him watch and denying him his, and _drowning_ him with it all the while?

_Winning_!

Now, if she can just get off real quick, and make sure he doesn't...

—•oOo•—

"Lean back, sugar, spread 'em wide, and let these girls eat you all up," Rogue purrs as she pulls her husband's back into her chest, giving his ear a sharp nip and a lick to make him shiver. "I want 'em to eat you up, and I wanna watch it happen, wanna watch 'em suck you in deep, and I wanna watch how good it feels, wanna _feel_ you."

"Chere, you best believe you about to get fuckin' _railed_ for this," Remy promises in a low, easy drawl that's completely at odds with the tension gripping his entire body, his eyes trained on the doubles rubbing up between his legs, both of them flushed and swollen from play with each other and teasing the ever loving snot out of him.

They'd stayed with Rogue enough in that regard, edging that man so painfully close ever since he'd cleaned her out nearly thirty minutes ago, giving him plenty, then not enough, then taking plenty more, and then having none of him at all, and now, he's knuckling up handfuls of the sheets, shaking and hissing everytime a wet mouth teases anywhere over him.

Rogue drags teeth and kisses down his neck and over his shoulder, sliding her hands down his belly, then over his thighs, hooking them under his knees to pull him open further. She licks and sucks his skin in sync with her dupes' licks and sucks on him. Pleasure spasms up along his abdomen, and Rogue twitches right along with him, wrapping her legs around his waist and rolling up into his back, rubbing every exposed sensitive spot against him.

"Look at 'em, sugar," she grazes low and silky over his ear, slipping a hand down to stroke him long and slow, offering him up to the duplicates. "Watch 'em all flushed and sweaty from each other, for _you_ , look at those hands, tits, tongues, and swollen lips all over you," she murmurs, giving him to One, then Two, feeling only the slightest bit silly as she keeps up the explicit talk.

Well, explicit for _her_. Dirty talk still doesn't come naturally, not yet, anyway, not like it does for him. Not from a lack of sheer disgustingness, of course; _oh no_ , she's long since discovered she matches him bit for bit on that score. He's just far smoother with words and his own sensuality, and even with his persona coloring her every input and output, she still can't quite shake feeling a little silly doing it.

Wherever her inhibitions stand on the matter, he absolutely loves it when she gets gross in his ear, and right now is no exception. He groans at her words and drops his head back on her shoulder, and she swears she can feel every single muscle in his body tighten up as he pushes up in her hand, up into a mouth.

"You like that Cajun? You like how that feels? How they look, all over your dick while I'm givin' it to 'em?" She leans over his shoulder and turns his face to hers. "Did you know I can feel what they do?" She asks over an almost-kiss, "see, smell, and taste what they do?" She licks his lips, sucks his lower one, then continues, "sugar, right now, while I stare at your pretty eyes, as I lick you, kiss you," she pauses to kiss him hot and open, "I can also see you as they do, I can almost feel you in my throat, and I can almost taste and smell you, too."

She deepens that kiss, senses literally reeling, and she flings borrowed empathy wide and dumps all of it on him.

Next thing she knows, he's taken over that kiss and dragged her around and over him, all within a matter of maybe a split second. She immediately pushes off in a low hover, just out of reach, and pulls him away from the dupes' mouths.

" _Fuck me_ , Anna, come _here_ ," he growls, slapping hands on her hips in an attempt to snatch her back down on him.

"Oh, _that_ attitude ain't gettin' you anywhere, sugar," she drawls, eyes down to slits on him. She flicks lashes at him, grins, and leans in to sink her teeth in the side of his neck the same time the girls come in to do the same on his thighs, making him jump in excitement, and suck in his breath so hard, it whistles through his teeth.

"In fact," she continues, licking a swirl over his Adam's apple, "I personally think that attitude's got you some makin' up to do, hm?"

"Oh, you absolutely right, sweetheart," he rejoins smoothly through a flash of teeth, reaching for her again.

She laughs and backs off as One and Two each take an arm, guiding his hands down their bodies as they lick and nip their way up his. They take turns kissing him and pulling him out of kisses, enjoying his fingers and the charge he buzzes them with.

Shivering at the pleasure his touch brings them, Rogue smacks her lips and reaches for her sufficiently distracted and shushed husband. She grips his erection in a squeeze and a tug, then goes down on him fast and tight. He tears out of his kisses with a low groan, and his hips tilt up. His charge flares with a sharp whine, and Rogue can _feel_ it all, the dupes going, she's going, and he's going _real_ soon if she keeps it up...

Pulling off with a loud pop, she looks up at him through her lashes, panting, her heart racing as she catches her breath. Then she grins and gives him another slow, deliberate lick, and climbs up on him.

"Shug, you go down on his balls," she directs at One, eyes never leaving her husband's as she pulls his hands out from between legs and slaps them over her ass, wet fingers and all. "And you," she tells Two, "you gonna stay up here and put your mouth and tits all over him."

She turns on a thick smile at her man as she ignores his attempts to get it in, instead wiggling on him a bit til he pushes his head back on the pillow with a loud groan. "And _you_ , Cajun, _you_ hold still. Actin' like this all about you," she tsks, yanking him upright til they're nose to nose. "Well, it ain't," she continues, pulling his ass to the edge of the bed, his feet hitting the floor, "this is all about _me_ , and my _bath,_ and my _mask_ , and my _serums_ , and my— _ohhh_! Goddamn, Remy," she cuts herself off with a yelp and a gasp as he tightens his grab on her ass and smashes her hips into his again so hard, she swears she can feel him clear up to her throat.

"You ' _goddamn_ ' right, Anna-Marie," he grits out the nastiest smile she's seen on him to date, fingers digging into her flesh as he moves her on him again, "this _is_ all about you, and all y' skincare shit, and _you_ just _showin'_ me _what-for_ , so how's about we get to that part, neh?"

—•oOo•—

" _Ohhhhh,_ my fuckin' _g-god_ , chere...ch-chere... _mmnamnnn..._ "

Rogue huffs out a short laugh at her husband and bounces on him a little harder as she watches Two yank him flat on his back and swallow his groan in a kiss. Two keeps him in that kiss as she maneuvers around to his side, her hands all over him, caressing, scratching, pinching, her body rolling into his ribs from hip to chest. He's got one leg thrown around One currently on his nuts, his other foot curling into the carpet, and Rogue knows he's _so close_ to losing his damn mind, that he's barely hanging on by his teeth right now...

She pauses her grind on him and pulls out the sweaty white curl stuck in her lipstick, and pushes Two out his face to tip his chin up. "Mm-mm, nope, not yet, Cajun," she teases softly, practically drunk on the shared arousel and pleasure all around, "it ain't your turn yet, so keep up, hmm?"

His eyes flare up wild, and she can hear him grinding his teeth to dust in that clenched jaw. His hands are rough enough to show up fingertip bruises across her ass later on, and she feels his grip all sweaty and shaky now.

_God_ , he's close, and Remy is nothing else if he isn't his most _absolute_ beautiful right before he blows a pent up load.

Grinning down at him, she tosses her hair back, arches her body, and runs her hands up her ribs to cup her breasts. She watches his pupils blow wide as she pops off the pasties, and her thighs start shaking as she rolls her nipples, pleasure shooting sharp and sweet straight to her clit.

" _Mmmmm_ , now that feels _real_ good, Remy, I'm gettin' real close! How 'bout you, sugar?" She thickens her drawl for him, lets her tone go sultry, and she reaches back for One, pulling her face into her hip as she sits back on him. One licks up her ribs, a hand slipping around Rogue to scratch low on her belly. Rogue spreads her legs wide to let Remy watch her, _them_ , and hums low and lazy as she pinches her nipples and starts up a maddeningly slow pace on him.

"How close are ya, sugar?" She asks again, dropping a hand down over One's, "how close are ya to comin', huh, Remy? You can't come yet, I ain't done, but here, lemme get a little wetter for ya, make it bit tighter, make it feel better for ya while you're waitin' on me, yeah?" She pulls One's hand between her legs and starts rubbing herself.

He starts getting noisy at that sight, and he starts getting even noisier when Two snakes her mouth down his midline straight for his groin. His eyes flash and his mutation pops and snaps across his skin when Rogue pulls Two's hair up so he can watch her lick over his pubic bone. She can feel the pleasure pressuring low in his body right along with him, and she can see, taste, hear what her dupes can, and—

" _Remy_. Look at me." She commands sharply, trying to hide her shudder at the pleasure of his charged body, at the sights, tastes, and smells flooding the mindlink, "don't you _dare_ come yet, I'm still not th-there... _oh god_ ," she stumbles on him, drops to her hands on his chest, eyes wide as she feels him shift _just so,_ hit that spot _just right..._ "sugar, d-do that again."

That does him in. He shoves Two out of the way as he yanks her down flat on him, his voice loud and hoarse over her ear as he goes, his arms tight and shaking, his whole body jerking under her as he finishes.

His orgasm crashes her borrowed empathy with all the force of a tidal wave. She sucks in a breath right along with him, feels her body rip up with his, and chokes on his name as he starts coming back down.

She pushes away to prop up on his chest, giggling stupidly at the disgusting sweaty skin noises her movements make. She stares down at her still dazed Cajun, and starts grinning. His heart's still crashing out of his chest, his eyes are still wild, he's still twitching inside her. Her dupes are soft bodies moving up in the bed with them, lightly touching him, mouths warm on him, and she can still feel just how sensitive his body is through the fading empathy, his skin popping goosebumps in response to it _all_.

"Gotcha, swamp rat," she giggles triumphantly down at him, "that'll _teach you_ to mess up my _luxury_ nights, huh?"

She leans over and kisses his panting mouth, long, slow, and sweet, pushing her fingers through his sweaty hair. She smiles over his lips as he shivers under her in response, and curls her tongue alongside his.

When she pulls back, he's completely limp, eyes a dim, drowsy red, and he's wearing such a thoroughly _wrecked_ expression, she doesn't even try to mask her smugness. "Maybe next time, you'll show proper _respect_ for the snail mucous, hmm?"

"Mmm-hm, y' sure _showed_ _me_ , didn' you?" He smirks lazily up at her, completely ruining the moment. "This'll _totally_ learn me, chere."

Her smugness slips into an itch of irritation at him, and she can feel her brows knitting up in a frown. " _Remy—"_

"Ah, beb," he interrupts with a soft laugh and the dopiest heart-eyed look she's ever seen on that ridiculous man as he pulls her back down with him, "I love the absolute fuck outta you, you know that?"

" _Hmph_ ," she pouts a little, settling readily enough on him for a snuggle. The dupes crawl up on either side of them, and he shifts a bit to let them curl up all soft and kissy into his sides. "Good thing I love you, too, shug, 'cause I'd totally divorce you over that _gorgeous_ serum you _destroyed_ last night."

He chuckles and kisses the top of her head. "Wasn't all I destroyed last night."

"How well I know, Remy," she snorts at him, "you probably pissed away sixty dollars' worth of product last night, you _turd_."

"Chere, you _really_ bitchin' about sixty dollars, like we _broke—"_

She bites her obnoxious husband and makes him yelp. One and Two stir and glare at her, then snuggle back down into Remy's shoulders. Rogue rolls her eyes and takes out her dupes with a touch, and then narrows eyes at his dumb, laughing face. " _You_ hush. Not a _word_. Go to sleep Cajun, or I'll—

You'll _what_?" He snorts, "get back at me again? Non, _non_ , chere," he laughs as she starts pulling back, "get y' ass back down here." He snatches her back snug in his arms and smooches her forehead.

"No, you'll be jerkin' it to Jergens on the couch, that's what," Rogue grumps at him, "now go to sleep, you."

"I love you, too, Anna-Marie. Now _hush_. 'M tryin' to get my luxury beauty rest, and your ruinin' it—"

She reaches up and kisses him, pulling just enough with her power to shut him up and send him to sleep. She feels _him_ wash over for the second time that night, only this time, it's a different sliver of him. Where the other had been electric, dark, dirty, _delicious_ , an intense libido sharpened with love, _this_ is a sweet warmth in her mind, a whiff of spice and smoke, a sensual kiss, a light caress, a snug wrap of long, lean arms and legs around her.

Rogue pulls back, feeling a sweet smile tugging at her lips as she watches his features soften with sleep. She reaches up to trace the lines of his mouth with her fingertip, then quickly comes back up for another kiss.

"Night, Cajun. Love you, too." She snuggles down comfortably in his arms, noses his throat, then giggles softly as she smacks a kiss on the side of his neck. "And you _totally_ got yours, sugar, quit actin'."

 


End file.
